That morning, just before the sun started to rise, the Ministry felt unusually silent. Papers still zoomed through the hallways and up and down the lifts, but there was an early morning stillness that made everything seem more calm than usual. With his hands in the pockets of his trousers, Kingsley faced an open window. Zara was seated cross-legged ( Read more... )

"I feel old, Zara," Kingsley leaned back into his chair with a smile, quirking an eyebrow at his young colleague.

"You jest," Zara replied, looking up from a bursting manila folder. "You don't look old."

Papers were piled up on the mahogany desk between them. Kingsley leafed through a long profile on the murdered Wizarding ( Read more... )